Return to Santa Barbara
by Time Lady Evangeline
Summary: "Shawn Spencer – Son, Friend, Hero, and The Greatest Psychic Detective to Ever Live." (One-Shot, possible Sequel) It's been six years since the gang has been in Santa Barbara, but something (or someone) calls them back to the beloved city one last time to say goodbye.


Juliet O'Hara had not been in Santa Barbara for six years. She had a good life and a respected job. She rarely thought about her days at the SBPD anymore, let alone about a certain "psychic detective." She'd moved on long ago, and she finally had herself together.

It was a beautiful morning, and her mail came early. She was sifting through the ads, and pulled out a dark red envelope addressed to her, from Santa Barbara. The woman brought it inside to her kitchen table and reached for her letter opener, hesitantly cutting along the edge. She unfolded a piece of printer paper from inside that was written on with a Sharpie. It read:

"The days that you knew me

Have 6 years since past

Who knows how much longer

This silence will last

You've moved on, it's true,

But I've always known

That when I needed you

You'd come back home."

Enclosed was a plane ticket to Santa Barbara. She couldn't quite believe it, it just seemed so absurd. Upon further inspection, she noted that the flight was scheduled to leave in a couple of days. She had left several good friends in Santa Barbara, this could be from any one of them. But the poetry, that seemed so much like him…

Still, she had a job to go to. She stuffed the letter into her purse and made her way to the police department. Karen Vick was the chief there, they had come to this city together. Juliet smiled and waved into her office, but the Chief hadn't noticed her. She was engrossed with something in her hands. Upon closer inspection, Juliet saw a red envelope opened on the desk with a plane ticket beside it.

The younger woman rushed into the room, pulling her own envelope out of her purse. "I got one too!" Karen looked up, confused. She lifted her own plane ticket in her fingers, letting it drop back onto her desk.

"What do you make of it, O'Hara?"

"Someone must want us back in Santa Barbara."

"Are you going to go?" Juliet took a moment to think. She'd been so caught up in the fact that she'd received a letter that she hadn't even thought about whether or not she was going to actually accept the invitation.

"Well, I don't see why not. I've got plenty of vacation days left." Chief Vick nodded.

"Me too. I'm sure my husband could handle taking care of the kids for a few days."

"Let's make it a vacation then!" The idea seemed wonderful, and Santa Barbara was nice that time of year.

PSYCHPSYCHPSYCHPSYCHPSYCH

Carlton Lassiter had moved on to conquer bigger and better things since Santa Barbara. He was head detective of the NYPD, and was living a successful life with his family. He had everything he'd ever dreamed of having, more than that. He had another child on the way, and was very preoccupied. However, every once in a while, a single word would bring him back to thinking of his time in California, and wondering about his friends, where they were now and what they were doing.

So when he sorted through his mail and found a red envelope addressed to him from Santa Barbara, it would be quite the understatement to say that he was surprised. The rest of the mail tumbled out of his hands as he instinctively tore it open.

"Is something wrong?" Marlowe asked from the kitchen table when she saw him wide-eyed, holding the contents of the envelope.

"I think I need to go to Santa Barbara."

"What?!" Carlton nodded.

"Look." He allowed her a moment to analyze what he'd showed her. "Someone in Santa Barbara needs me." She looked up at him, worried about how seriously he was taking this. He shook his head, overwhelmed with memories of times past, and with concern for whoever might be sending the message. He looked up at Marlowe, eyes pleading for her to understand.

She shook her head, sighing. "Fine." He hugged her, relieved.

"Thank you."

PSYCHPSYCHPSYCHPSYCHPSYCH

Henry Spencer had left the city shortly after Chief Vick and Juliet. He'd remarried Madeleine, and old friend from the force had started a program in Wisconsin, in which retired officers who still had a little "juice" left could help with detective cases from the station. He had called, asking if wanted Henry to run it with him. It was a tough decision, but he finally figured change was good. Shawn had supported him completely, and so he had left.

He tiredly reached into the mailbox and sorted through what he had received. He recognized his son's handwriting immediately, despite not having seen it or, for that matter, heard his voice in six years. He'd figured Shawn was busy. He wasted no time in opening the letter.

He burst into the house, startling Madeleine. "We have to go to Santa Barbara. The plane leaves tomorrow night."

"What's wrong?!" She asked, standing and not hesitating to go to the hall closet and pull out their suitcases. She trusted her husband and if he said they needed to go, they needed to go.

"Shawn." Her breath caught in her chest at the thought of something happening to her baby boy. Henry had gone to his home phone and was dialing the number he had sorted to memory the day it was given to his son. It was no longer in service. "Damn it, Shawn!" He was frustrated and overcome with worry for his child.

"What?! What does it say?!" Maddie asked, nodding towards the letter.

"Nothing, really. But I think something's wrong, look at what he sent us." He showed her the poem and the two tickets meant for them.

"Maybe he just wants us to visit him."

"I don't know, this is awfully short notice. I hope you're right, I do. But all I know is that we need to get down there." So they packed their bags and waited.

PSYCHPSYCHPSYCHPSYCHPSYCH

Burton Guster had founded and was leader of a new and successful pharmaceutical company in London. He was living the high life, with his wife Rachael and her son, and their one year-old baby girl. He thought of Shawn often, and hoped he had taken his advice and moved on. After everyone in their little "family" had left Santa Barbara, no one in the city cared about Psych anymore. It became harder and harder to find a case, and eventually it became a cost rather than a profit. It came to the point where they just couldn't do it anymore, so Gus had to sit with Shawn and tell him that it was over. That they simply couldn't afford to keep the fake psychic business going.

He remembered the events like they happened yesterday. At the time, it was the hardest thing Gus had ever done. He watched Shawn's face fall in realization as he spoke, but them he just looked up at Gus and smiled, like he always did. "It's okay man, you're right. But this was fun, right? And it lasted way longer than even I thought it would. Thanks for your help, Gus. But, hey, I think S.E.I.Z.E. really has potential to take off!" And he shot off into some marketing scheme for the life coaching business he'd dreamed up.

So, they stopped paying the rent for the Psych building and emptied out all the furniture and knickknacks. They'd finally left the place for good when Gus got a call. "Hello?"

"Gus?"

"Rachael?"

That day, he spent hours talking to the woman he knew he loved. She was going to be going back to London, this time for good. He knew he couldn't let her get away. They were saying goodbye, and she was about to hang up when Gus stopped her. "Wait."

"What?"

"I need to see you. Now."

"Now?"

"Now. On the beach, the picnic spot. Hurry, before the sun sets!" He hung up the phone and rushed to grab the picnic blanket, a half-finished bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. As a last minute thought, he grabbed the candles from his coffee table. It was only when he was in the car driving down the beach that he realized he didn't have a ring.

He found a cheap jewelry shop along the way and figured something there would just have to do. He went down, set up, and when she arrived, he proposed as the sun set over the horizon. She'd said yes, of course, and now he was going to London with them. And just like that, the plan was set in motion.

Then he had to tell Shawn. Had to tell him that he'd be leaving, probably forever. And just knowing that broke his heart. Despite knowing it was for the better, he knew for certain that this would be the hardest moment in his entire human life. He called Shawn to meet him at the park, after he had spent hours rehearsing what he would say.

It had started out calmly, Gus standing before Shawn and presenting him with the facts: Psych was over; there was nothing left in the city for them; his current lifestyle just wasn't where he wanted it to be. Shawn agreed to all of these things, not comprehending what it might mean. Then Gus had spoken his plans and it all hit him like a load of bricks.

"No… Y-You don't mean…" Gus only nodded. "You're going to…"

"I'm sorry, Shawn. But I'm moving on."

"But… It's always been you and me. We were gonna do it all, everything…"

"Those were only dreams, Shawn. It's time for us to grow up. I'm going to be a husband and father. We can't run from the inevitable anymore."

"Gus, please. I-I… Please, don't… Don't go." He was at a loss for words.

"Shawn, this is what I want."

"But," He didn't even try to hide the tears that welled in his eyes as the initial shock passed. "Gus…" His voice cracked with tears. Gus bit his lower lip and looked up, trying not to cry himself. Finally, when he was ready, he spoke again.

"Shawn, I can't." Despite having waited to be calm, the tears started again as soon as he looked back at his best friend and the tears that were streaming down his face. Gus continued, now not caring how much emotion he showed. "I'm going to have a life. I think you should try it too. Get a real job, find someone. Look, I'm sorry it didn't work with Juliet, but you can't spend your whole life waiting for her to come back. Don't just keep trying to do all of these ridiculous things, really settle down. If not for yourself, do it for me. You're not a child anymore, Shawn. You need to stop acting like one."

Shawn nodded, taking in a deep breath and finding his words. He cleared his throat. "You're right, of course. You're always right." He laughed once, halfheartedly. Gus opened his arms and hugged Shawn, then after pulling away, he held him at arm's length by the shoulders.

"You're gonna be okay, Shawn. I'm sorry it has to be this way."

"No, don't be sorry. Don't. This is exactly what you've always wanted. Don't ever apologize for being brave enough to know what you need to do. You're finally going to be happy, who am I to stand in the way of that? I would never… no, I could never do that to you. I'm glad that you get to do this. Congratulations on getting engaged, buddy, and for taking that big step. I'm proud of you."

"Really?"

"Of course!"

"Wow, thank you Shawn."

"When do you leave?"

"Friday."

"Wow, that's short notice!" Shawn said, trying to hide his horror.

"Yeah, Rachael didn't plan on this, so everything is happening so fast. The marriage will be in London. I'm sorry, Shawn."

"No, don't sweat it. It's fine." There was a moment of silence before Shawn came to the realization. "Is this… Is this goodbye?" Gus tried not to cry, he did, but it really was no use.

"I'm afraid it is. I'm going to see my parents tomorrow, stay with them for a couple days, then I leave to the airport with Rachael and Max."

"Wow. Wow…"

It went on like that for another hour or so, both desperately trying to figure out what to say. After all, how do you get all the feelings from an entire lifetime into a single conversation? Finally, they'd said goodbye with a final handshake, and Gus had to be the one to walk away. If he'd ever done anything hard before, all of it combined could not describe what was happening now.

He wanted nothing more than to run back and embrace Shawn, tell him it was going to be alright, and for a moment he thought he had. But no, that was just his imagination, and he was still walking away. He cried, trying to make his shoulders shake as little as possible so that Shawn wouldn't know. He could hear Shawn cry, and that only made it worse. It had taken every ounce of willpower inside Gus to get in the Blueberry and drive away.

They hadn't spoken since, as neither of them could ever find the words to say. So on that morning as he opened up his mailbox, he didn't expect to find a letter all the way from Santa Barbara addressed to him. He realized what the contents meant and spoke to Rachael about making the trip back. Knowing how hard it had been for Gus to leave Santa Barbara, she permitted him to go.

PSYCHPSYCHPSYCHPSYCHPSYCH

And so it happened. Everyone caught their flights, curiosity filling their heads, not knowing what to expect from the city that was once theirs. Each arrived at slightly different times, and each of their suitcases had a red envelope attached to them after they came through the baggage claim.

Henry opened his envelope on the spot, without paying heed to the scraps of the envelope he had scattered around. "Damn it, Shawn." He muttered, shaking his head.

"What? What is it?!" Madeleine asked.

"He's sending us somewhere else." He showed her the note on his hand, which had another poem scrawled on it. This time, it said:

"Looks like you've answered

My simple request

Thank you,

You've passed that test

Now go and relax,

Make yourself at home

We'll meet again soon,

Then I will make my reasons known."

Inside was a room key for a hotel nearby. So, they loaded up their luggage into a taxi and headed there. When they found their room, they set down their things, at a loss for what to do next.

Lassiter was in his own hotel room in the same situation. He wandered around the room when he realized that, on the complimentary tray, sat a bright red envelope, with the words _My Friends_ written across it. He wasted no time in opening it.

"It's good to see that

You've settled in.

I'm sure you're famished,

So here's where we'll begin:"

Below was an address, 1037 Northridge Road, and a time, one o'clock.

He arrived at a dine-in pizza place, and the hostess smiled at him. "Mr. Carlton Lassiter?" She questioned, and he nodded. "Come with me." She gestured for him to follow and led him to a room reserved for parties and group gatherings. "You're the first to arrive. Have a seat and I'll get your drink order."

"Do you know what's going on here?" He asked.

"Not a clue. I was informed that there would be questions from the guests, but they told me to just assure you that things would be explained."

He didn't want to wait, he wanted to know what was happening and he wanted to know now. Still, Lassiter took a seat and ordered an iced tea.

Not five minutes later, Henry and Madeline walked in. "Carlton?" Henry tried to make the man's presence fit with the theories in his head, but to no avail.

"Henry? Did you call me here?" Lassiter asked, standing to shake hands with his old friend.

"No, you got a letter too?" Just as he finished the sentence, Karen and Juliet entered the room, faces just a confused as the rest of them. When the waitress came in to take down drink orders, Henry decided to question her.

"Who else is marked as reserved for this?" She counted the people in the room.

"One more, a Mr. Guster, I believe." Henry turned to face them.

"Are you sure there isn't a Shawn Spencer on the list?"

"Yes, I'm sure." She left, bringing their drinks back with her. Gus walked in just as she did, and she took his drink down as well. He took a seat with the rest of them.

"What's going on?"

Juliet answered. "Don't know. But since everyone but Shawn is here, this has to be something he set up." Everyone else agreed with her deduction.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens, maybe he'll show up." Karen said, picking up a menu. "Might as well get something to eat." Everyone else followed suit, and after three pizzas and a lot of reminiscing, they weren't quite sure about what to do next. When Gus asked for the check, he was handed a red envelope in its stead. All of them sat forward in their seats, ready to know what it said.

Gus's eyes scanned the paper. "Well? What does it say, Guster?!"

"You are still as impatient a honey badger, Lassiter."

Carlton pulled it out of Gus's hands and began to read the note out loud.

"I hope you're all satisfied

But I know the truth

Your thirst for adventure

Still has not left you.

Beware your curiosity,

You may very well find

That what you see

Won't be what you have in mind.

But if you are still

Those people I knew,

You won't be hindered

Until you know what's true.

So let's continue, my friends,

But to move forward,

We must not meet at the end,

Instead, in the place where the secrets began."

"What the hell does that mean?" Lassiter asked.

"The place where the secrets began… where is that supposed to be?"

"The police station!" Gus said, remembering how Shawn had told him the story of faking his psychic abilities for the first time. No one had any better ideas, so they headed downtown.

Walking up the steps of the Santa Barbara Police Station was incredibly nostalgic. Lassiter instinctively pulled off his shades, tucking them into his coat pocket. Looking around, he saw that not a thing had changed. Some familiar faces welcomed them, along with many new ones, but it still felt like home.

From down the hall, Woody approached them. "Hey guys, I got a note saying you'd be here!" Forgetting the formalities, Juliet pushed forward.

"What else did the note say?" He pulled it out of his pocket, and she swiped it from his fingers, reading it aloud.

"Hey, Woody. The gang's gonna come by today, follow them. Tell them I'm glad they've made it this far, and give Gus this key."

"What key?!" Gus shouted, practically frantic.

"This one!" Woody handed Gus a car key.

"He didn't. OH MY-" He ran out to the parking lot, everyone else close behind. "HE DID!" There, in its once-usual parking spot, sat a little blue Toyota Echo. As he approached, Gus realized it was, in fact, the original Blueberry, with all of its dents and scratches - all of them caused by Shawn and his "adventures".

Gus unlocked the car and sat inside, putting the key into the ignition. A meow from the back seat startled him, and he looked back to see a familiar furry friend. Around the cat's neck was a red envelope with his name on it. "Guys! I found another one!"

He took the envelope and opened it, reading it aloud.

"Hey old friend,

Remember me?

I've got to say

It's been lonely.

Nevermind that,

It's time you go find

The place where we

Left everything behind."

"These are getting more obscure," Gus complained.

"Well he's talking to you, so think." Henry took the note from his hands and read it to himself.

"Left everything behind… The Psych Office?"

"It's worth a shot," Juliet decided, and they all piled into their cars. Upon reaching the building, they found it had become a pawn shop. The blonde woman led the way in and went to the man at the register.

"Hello, I know this may sound strange, but we were wondering if perhaps someone had come in with a red envelope?"

"Are you Juliet?"

"Yes, that's me." The man reached under the counter and retrieved an envelope that was a familiar shade of red. Juliet's name was scrawled across the front.

Inside was a beautiful diamond ring, along with another note. Holding it gingerly in her hand, she read the note.

"I know those days are long behind us

We both have changed.

But maybe, just maybe,

Something remains.

It's been too long,

It's too late to begin.

Because we already have

At the old drive-in."

"That was surprisingly clear," commented Chief Vick.

"Where I first told him I wanted to give us a try… He was on a date with another girl. The drive-in movie theater."

Maddy drew a breath, and Henry put his arm around her. Those had been the most terrifying hours of her life, when Yang had kidnapped her. They got in the cars and headed over.

They walked to the concessions stand, and upon asking the cashier, he handed them a large bag of popcorn. "It's for 'Lassie'," he said. Shawn's dad took it and turned it over, and sure enough, a red envelope fell among the popped kernels.

He handed it to Carlton, who ripped it open and pulled out the note, scrawled in nearly illegible writing:

"You spent a bunch of time there

Waiting for Marlowe.

It's where they take the bad guys.

I'm tired of rhyming.

You'll figure it out."

"He can only mean the prison."

"Then let's go!" Gus ran out and everyone followed him.

Upon arriving, they went to the front office, where a red envelope was pinned to the bulletin board. The name on it was Henry's, and when he opened it, the only words on it were 'Woof, woof.'

"Oh, come on Shawn. You can't be serious! Woof? A dog? What?! … Oh." Henry realized what his son meant, and in a moment he was outside, jumping in the driver's seat of the Blueberry. The others hardly had enough time to get in the other car before he was turning onto the street.

He drove to his old home, leaping out of the car the moment it was stopped. He ran to the door and knocked impatiently, and finally it was opened by a young woman with a toddler on her hip. Before she could get a word out, Henry spoke.

"There was a wooden doghouse in your backyard when you moved in. Is it still there?!"

"Yes, but-"

"Can I get back there?! I'll only be a moment."

She didn't answer for several moments, trying to make sense of the situation, but Henry didn't have time to wait. "Please! I'm trying to find my son." The woman looked to her own child, whom she held closer to her.

She nodded, and when he sprinted to the backyard, she followed him. The rest of their group was waiting by the car in anticipation. When he came back holding a red envelope and its note, his face was blank and unreadable. There was an address scrawled across the note, and nothing more.

Maddie took the paper in her hands. "Where is this?" Gus looked over her shoulder.

"The hospital."

They all fell silent, for a moment they all tried to piece it together in their heads. Henry walked back to the car, and Maddie sat in the passenger seat. Everyone else followed suit and they drove to the Santa Barbara Hospital.

They made their way to the doors together. Just outside, Buzz stood waiting to meet them. "Hey, guys."

"Buzz! Did you write those notes?" Juliet asked, surprised.

"No, no. I only placed them. Shawn wrote them and told me where he wanted them."

"What's going on with him?"

"That's why I'm meeting you out here before you go inside. He's… um, he's ill."

"How ill?" That was Gus, now more than concerned.

"It… it doesn't look good. I just want you guys to be ready, it's not an easy sight to see."

"What happened?!" Lassiter cut in, horrified.

"Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Stage IV." Buzz's voice cracked around the lump in his throat. In that moment, they all realized the severity of the situation. Juliet clasped her hand over her mouth as a sop escaped her lips. Henry looked down and shook his head as tears escaped his eyes, holding Madeline close to him. Gus's legs nearly gave way, but Carlton

"Take us in now, Buzz," Karen said gently.

There were no words exchanged on the way to the fourth floor. Lassiter had gone to check them all in, but the receptionist said they'd known they were coming. "Anything for Shawn," she added.

Room 421 had a name beside the door making it obvious who resided within. Buzz stepped in, and tentatively Juliet followed him. The others did the same.

"Hey, Shawn, wake up. They're here," Buzz said, gently shaking his shoulder. His eyes opened blearily.

"Wh-What?"

"They're here. All of them." It was then Shawn realized there were other people in the room.

The man was extremely thin, and his face held a sickly grey pallor. But when he smiled, the room's atmosphere relaxed immediately. This was the same Shawn they all knew. The same Shawn they all loved.

"You guys did that so much faster than I imagined you would!" In his excitement, he broke into a coughing fit, shaking as tears filled his eyes. Finally, he managed to draw a breath and keep it. "So, I assume you all know why you're here now."

"Shawn..." Juliet's eyes pooled with tears as she approached the edge of the bed. He smiled, though his eyes matched hers.

"Stop it, Jules. It's okay."

"I'm so sorry I left. I'm so sorry."

"Juliet, please. Don't say that. It's not like this is your fault."

"But I should've been here, with you."

"Don't be ridiculous." Shawn cleared his throat. "I want to speak to each of you on your own. Gus first." The rest of them promptly left the room, comforting each other outside. Tears streamed down Gus's cheeks as he approached.

"Pull up a chair, Gus. Take it easy, it's not like I'm dying today." At this, Gus lost it, bursting into sobs.

"I'm sorry Shawn."

"Oh, come on, not you too. Sit down and look at me, Gus." His friend did as he was told. "You have nothing to be sorry for. What have you been up to?"

"I opened a pharmaceutical company in London. We're doing pretty well. Max recently graduated and is going to start University soon. He's a smart boy. And… we have a little girl."

Shawn face lit up at this bit of news. "Really?! How old is she? What's her name?"

"Her name is Lily and she's just turned a year old."

"I'm so happy for you." Gus's lower lip began to tremble. "Don't you do that," Shawn begged, his voice cracking as he tried to hold back his own tears. "Please." Despite his request, they both began to cry.

"How long have been sick?" Gus asked him. "Tell me what happened."

"Right around the time Psych ended, I started feeling tired all the time. I couldn't eat and I just felt unwell. But I figured I was just sad. I was going to ask you about it, but then everything happened so fast, and you were gone. And I started feeling worse but I thought it was just because I missed you. I didn't know…"

"How did you find out?"

"A couple of weeks later I went drinking. Like, hard drinking. I just… I just wanted to forget, you know?" Gus did know. He'd done the same thing. "Well, I guess it aggravated it, and the pain was so severe I ended up collapsing on the way home. They ran a bunch of tests in the ER and, well, here I am now."

"Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well? I would've made you go to the hospital. You could've started treatment earlier."

"That wouldn't have changed anything. It's been almost six years now, Gus."

"Six whole years, you could've called, Shawn. You know I would've dropped everything to come see you."

"That's why I waited until now. I didn't want to waste it."

"Waste what?"

"My chance to see you. I wanted to wait until it was almost over."

"Over? Shawn, what are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about. One look at me and it's obvious."

"You're gonna be fine, Shawn. We're here now, and you're going to get through this. You're not alone anymore. I'm with you the whole way, buddy." Gus held up his fist, and Shawn bumped it with his own.

"I've missed you, man."

"I've missed you too."

"I'm gonna talk to Lassie and Chief Vick now, but don't go too far."

Gus smiled. "You know I won't." He left the room and moments later, the two he'd requested came in.

"Hey guys!"

"Hey," Lassiter said, trying to determine what he should say.

"Hi."

"Look, I called you both in together because there's something you don't know. And, well, I figure given the situation, I'd better get it out in the open."

"What are you talking about?" Chief asked. Lassie bit his lip.

"The way I solved cases… Well, I wasn't completely honest. Now, you must know that I was always on your side. But… I'm not actually a psychic."

They both sighed. "I'm sorry, guys."

"How did you do it?" Lassiter asked him, ready to hear the truth.

"I just observed."

"You didn't have any contacts?" Chief Vick questioned.

"I asked my dad for help sometimes. Other than that, I just did my job. I looked, and I saw." Carlton nodded slowly, taking it in.

"You're the best detective in the world, then."

"No. I was the best liar in the world. I never followed the rules, I could've gotten people seriously hurt."

"But the way you worked enabled us to do more with our little police station than any other police station in the world," Karen cut in. "You always pulled through for us, Mr. Spencer." Shawn smiled, eyes welling with tears.

Lassiter put a hand on the sick man's shoulder. "If this is what you're looking for, Shawn, I forgive you." Chief Vick came to stand at the other side of the bed.

"Me too."

Shawn wiped his eyes with his shaking hand. "Thank you so much."

After a moment, Shawn asked them to send his parents in. In half a second, Henry rushed in, Madeline close behind. "Why didn't you call us, Shawn?!"

"Because you would've come back."

"You didn't want us to come be with you?" Maddie asked.

"I didn't want you to give up the great new life you had. You guys were happy."

"You're my son, Shawn. Do you really think that I would have cared for one moment about what I was leaving behind to be with you?"

"I've been sick for six years, Dad. That's six years of your life. You may not have cared, but I did."

Henry sighed, changing the subject. "What have they told you?"

"Not much. I bet Buzz knows more than me. But I know it's not good… I don't think I've got much longer. My initial prognosis was good, but the cancer was stubborn and about a year ago things took a turn for the worst. And here I am now." They all fell into silence, the words weighing heavily on their hearts. Henry sat, pinching the bridge of his nose as his wife took the place beside him.

Finally, he spoke. "'Woof, woof', Shawn?"

"I was tired. Besides, I knew you'd get it, and I was right." Henry laughed half-heartedly.

"Yeah, yeah…"

"We've missed you, Shawn. And we're here for you now."

"Thanks, Mom. And I missed you guys too. Can you send in Juliet now?"

"Of course." When they left, they went to go find Shawn's doctor and speak with him.

Juliet entered quietly and didn't speak.

"Hey Jules."

"Shawn."

"I'm sorry for everything."

"I know."

"… Did you find the ring?" She pulled it out of her pocket, and he sighed. "I know it's too late for me to ask you to marry me… but I want you to know that if there was a future for me, I'd want you in it. I love you, Juliet." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "And… and it's okay if you don't feel the same way. I know I lied to you, and it's been years, and honestly I never thought I'd even get this far. But I want… no, I need you to know that you made me happy. And that no matter what happens, that will always be true."

She threw her arms around him, sobbing, and he put his thin, weak arms up to embrace her. After several moments of this, she whispered brokenly into his ear: "I will always love you, Shawn Spencer."

PSYCHPSYCHPSYCHPSYCHPSYCH

Juliet O'Hara was numb. The past two months had been the most painful in her life, and now she stood beside Henry and Madeline as the casket was lowered into the ground. There was not a dry eye in the entire group of them, all dressed in black.

Around her neck, she wore a chain, and on it, the ring Shawn had given her. He'd been right, of course, in saying that he couldn't marry her, but they did what they could with the time they had, the time that never could have been long enough. It's quite possible that if circumstances had been different, she wouldn't have forgiven him, but that idea was abandoned in the reckless passion of a dying man and a desperate woman.

The gravestone read these words: Shawn Spencer – Son, Friend, and Hero, and The Greatest Psychic Detective to Ever Live.

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"Why do you wear that ring around your neck? Were you married?"

"Something like that. We wanted to be, but it was impossible. There wasn't enough time left." Juliet's eyes became cloudy with memories.

"What happened?" Juliet's new partner asked.

"Cancer."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too." Juliet slid the folder into the filing cabinet and straightened up. Everyone else in the station knew better than to ask those sorts of questions, but she was never angry when someone did; especially someone who didn't know any better.

She left and walked into Chief Vick's office. At seeing her face, Karen wasted no time in standing and closing the door behind her, then shutting the blinds. She opened her arms to Juliet, who walked into them and began to sob. They repeated this process as often as was necessary, until the stabbing pain of grief eased into a dull ache.

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"Honey?"

"Sorry, I'm sorry."

Marlowe bent to pick up the larger shards of the coffee cup her husband had dropped. He stopped her, getting down to do it himself.

"It's fine, I've got it."

She rubbed his tense back. He'd spoken very little since he'd returned from Santa Barbara. He wept bitterly when he was alone, when he thought no one could see him. She knew something awful must have happened out there over the couple of months he'd been gone, but he wouldn't talk to her about it.

"What happened, Carlton?" His hands began to shake, and on his knees, he began to sob. His wife put her arms around him patiently.

"Shawn is dead," he muttered through his tears. Marlowe closed her eyes and continued to hold onto him.

"I'm sorry," She whispered.

"Me too."

It took time, but he learned to abandon the guilt and responsibility he bore on his shoulders in regards to Shawn's death. It wasn't until his second child was born that he realized that Shawn wouldn't have wanted him to dwell on the things he couldn't change. And when the doctor brought them the birth certificate for their newborn son, they wrote the name Shawn Spencer Lassiter, because there was no name that could be more fitting, and because Shawn would've loved it.

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"Henry! Where have you been? I haven't seen you in ages, you just picked up and left without a word!" Henry's friend and ex-employer shouted to him from across the hardware store as he came closer.

"Sorry, Ralph. I had to go back to Santa Barbara."

"Why?"

"Shawn was really sick."

"I see. How's he doing now?"

Henry cleared his throat, trying not to let the tears welling in his eyes become too apparent. "He… He died." The shock and horror were apparent on his friend's face. He'd known Shawn as a child.

"Henry, I'm sorry."

"Me too."

That night Madeline set a plate in front of him. He made no move towards it. "Please eat, Henry." When he still didn't answer, she added brokenly, "I can't lose you too."

Tears fell and in a moment, they were in each other arms, offering what little comfort they could give. Because really, this was all incredibly horribly _wrong,_ a parent was never meant to lose a child, and nothing in the entire world could ever make it okay, but tethering themselves to each other kept them from losing all hope.

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"Woah mate, you're gonna drown yourself," the bartender warned as Gus took another shot of hard whiskey.

"Good."

"Yikes… What happened?"

"My best friend died of cancer."

"I'm sorry, mate."

"Yeah, me too."

He'd been there several hours, and despite that, he hadn't managed to forget a single thing. His best friend was dead and there was no reason he shouldn't be have died with him.

He ordered another drink with an unsafe alcohol content, then slumped with his head in his arms and sobbed. If he couldn't forget, he could try to make it so that he wouldn't be alive to remember.

He didn't think about the repercussions his death might have. The only thought in his head was the one that told him that he could be with Shawn again soon, or at least escape the guilt of not being there for him every step of the way. He took a final shot before the bartender told him they were closing.

Stumbling outside in the bitter cold of a London winter, he couldn't find the motivation to go home. He had the sense not to drive, so he walked, and it took him several minutes to realize where he was going.

He stood at the peak of the pedestrian overpass, dangerously close to the edge. "I'm sorry, Shawn," he said quietly.

"I should have done better! I shouldn't have abandoned you! And I am so, so sorry… But that'll never be enough." He started climbing onto the stone rail when firm hand settled on his shoulder.

"Dad."

"Max…" Gus began to sob as his son guided him down. "I'm so sorry." Max put his arms around him, offering the only comfort he could give.

It reminded Gus why he was still here. He had a wife and son, and a little girl so young that she wouldn't understand why Daddy wasn't coming home. They depended on him in every area, and they were the reason he lived. And even though Shawn was robbed of the chance to have a long life, he lived a very _wide_ one. He lived more in his thirty-or-so years than most people do in eighty, and in the end his regrets were few and far between. He would've been devastated to know that Gus hadn't carried on without him and completed the adventure they started together. Because most of Gus's life was made with pieces of Shawn, and without Shawn he never would have gotten where he is now.

"Let's go home, Dad," Max said as his voice betrayed his tears.

"O-Okay."

In his head he thanked Shawn for everything, for being reckless and for having enough courage for the both of them. For loving and laughing and _living,_ and for being Shawn Spencer – Son, Friend, Hero, and The Greatest Psychic Detective to Ever Live.


End file.
